


Too Late for R & R

by thatcrazywriterley



Series: The Too Late Tales [36]
Category: AEW, All Elite Wrestling, Being The Elite (Web Series), Young Bucks-Fandom
Genre: Mattie starts wrestling, Multi, Nick might commit murder, Polyamorous Relationships, Polyamory, and things go sideways, bad, brothers share a wife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:27:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatcrazywriterley/pseuds/thatcrazywriterley
Summary: On one of her first nights on Dark, Mattie Jackson has an eventful experience.
Relationships: Matt Jackson x Reader X Nick Jackson, Nick Jackson x Reader, matt jackson x reader
Series: The Too Late Tales [36]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695274
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Part 1

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Part 1

_Mattie_

It was different than being in the ring with Dad and Papa. They’d trained me for this since I was seven. For a while, I thought they’d put me on TV right away. Of course, none of them saw it that way. I had to earn it, just like everyone else in the business. There would be no network TV debut right off the bat. There were warmup matches and squash matches and practice on the mic. No matter how good I was, everyone knew I wasn’t ready for the big show. Not yet.

But I still trained with Dad and Papa, Uncle Kenny and Adam. Sometimes even Chuck and Trent would jump in if they had to go off to do something. Once, Arn Anderson even got in the ring with me. It was amazing. And being a Jackson meant something—just like being a Rhodes—but it didn’t mean I could get away without earning my stripes.

Uncle Kenny was the one who offered me a spot. Dad made sure that I understood that, if I signed it, I would be working for Tony and Uncle Kenny. They would be my bosses. They would be the ones who decided when I wrestled, where, and who. I could offer ideas, I could make suggestions and work on my character, but they had the final say. Dad and Papa wouldn’t be asking for special favors for me, and I shouldn’t think I’d get any.

“In fact,” Dad had said to me right before I signed the contract, “they’re going to expect more from you _because_ you’re a Jackson.”

I debuted on Dark as a partner and valet for one of the newly signed guys. His went by Alex Wonder, and he’d been brought on to join the revived Team Taz. He was like me—basically unknown on the wrestling scene—but he had an amazing talent. He was a heel, and Uncle Kenny said I needed to stretch my acting muscles. I wouldn’t be a babyface all the time, after all.

Alex was fighting Orange Cassidy in the opening match of Dark. They’d developed a tiny feud that was enough to tell a story. I wasn’t quite sure how I fit in with the whole storyline just yet, but we were working on it. Still, I’d come out with him, dressed in a pair of grey skinny jeans, Jordans, and a strappy black top. My job was to look good and distract the referee and his opponent as much as possible.

I figured I could do that.

***

I could feel my heart thumping out of my chest as I sat ringside to watch the match. It was late—going on midnight—and filming for the next week’s episode of Dark had been delayed in starting. The long minutes of waiting didn’t help my anxiety one bit. There were so many things that could go wrong, even though I knew Mattie wouldn’t be seeing any real wrestling action for a while. As a mother, I wanted her to succeed at her dream, but I was also terrified of what might happen when she chased after it for good. Being a wrestling wife twice over was one thing, but adding in being a wrestling mom… I didn’t know if my heart could take it.

“She’s going to be fine, Mama,” Matt said from the chair beside me. We sat near the barrier that separated the audience from the ring. We were in Daily’s Place with a small crowd—minute really—so it wasn’t too hard to hear him. He had a brace on his knee, a support for the healing ACL. Nick and I had finally convinced him to get the surgery to repair it a month before. After all, the Young Bucks had slowed down a little in recent years, and it wasn’t a huge deal for him to be out for nine months. 

“Trust us,” Nick murmured from behind me. He squeezed his hands on my shoulders and dropped down to press a kiss to the top of my head. I could sense the nerves running through him. They matched my own.

We watched as the match began. Mattie was leaning against the apron with her attention focused on what was going on. I could see her watching, taking in every move and step and spot. She watched Alex Wonder carefully, as if his safety was in her hands. In a way, it was. She paced around the corner, coming closer to us. I could see Matt in the set of her jaw and Nick in the earnestness of her eyes.

The action spilled out to ringside. Mattie did a good job of staying out of the way. She distracted the referee so Alex could get a cheap shot in. Cassidy bounced off the ropes and came bounding back across the ring. He reached out and grabbed the ropes as he fell into a baseball slide. In the same moment, Alex grabbed Mattie by the shoulders and yanked her in between him and the oncoming Cassidy.

I saw the flash of panic on Mattie’s face as she flung her arms out in front of her. She turned, her left leg forward. I saw the moment when Cassidy realized he was too deep into the move to stop. My heart leapt into my throat as I let out a scream. “Mattie!”

_Nick_

Slow motion. That’s what it felt like as I watched Cassidy slide at speed beneath the bottom rope and ram straight into my daughter. Her arms were locked out in front of her, palms out, left leg locked in front to bear her weight. I could see what was about to happen before it did.

When they collided, I didn’t know who was screaming louder, Mattie or her mother.

I moved before I could think. I vaulted over the security rail, not caring if I took the camera guy with me. All I could think was that I _had_ to get to my daughter. I shoved down the nausea that tore through me as I raced around the side of the ring. The match stopped the referee Alex, and Cassidy gathered around a body on the floor at ringside. I skidded along the mat, practically tossing people out of the way in my terror.

“Tea,” I said frantically, shoving Cassidy to the side. Alex hovered just out of reach—smart on his part. I’d have knocked him out if he’d been close enough.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Nick… we didn’t plan that spot…” Cassidy said, sounding heartbroken. As if he were going to be just as sick as me. He’d known Mattie since she was a baby. He’d probably hate himself if she were seriously hurt. A second later, he glared at Alex Wonder with murder in his eyes.

“Mattie,” I said again, crawling closer until I was right beside my daughter, Doc Sampson knelt on her other side, his hands gently probing her left wrist and her right leg. I didn’t need him to tell me. Her left leg was twisted at an odd angle. White bone and bloody gore pushed through the skin of her left forearm. Her face was splotchy, alternately crimson and ashy pale. “Mattie.”

“We need to get her to the hospital,” Doc Sampson said. He glanced at my daughter’s arm and then back at her leg. “I think she’s got at least one break there.”

My eyes burned, and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. Tears poured down my face as I hovered over my first-born child. Her face was a mask of pain and terror. It was amazing that she hadn’t passed out or gone into shock yet. Doc Sampson was on the walkie to backstage. A gurney rolled out from the back, medics pushing people out of the way.

I looked up and back. Y/N and Matt were at the railing, watching with faces almost as white as Mattie’s. Matt was on crutches, unable to get close. Our wife was frozen with terror, her worst nightmares coming true.

“Go tell them we’re going to the hospital. Get security, and get them out of the crowd as fast as possible,” I ordered Cassidy. He nodded, still looking as if he were either going to puke or rip Wonder apart with his bare hands, then practically ran toward the spot where my brother and our wife waited.

_Matt_

I kept one arm around Y/N’s waist, knowing that if I let go, she would hit the floor. I could see it in the ghostly pallor of her face and the fact that she barely looked to be breathing. “It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay.”

Cassidy came closer, his face alternately angry red and sick green. I could already see him blaming himself for what happened. He’d barely opened his mouth to speak when I heard the sound of my brother’s rage-filled voice.

“Stupid, dumbass prick! Careless asshole!” Half a breath later the distinctive sound of two stiff hits echoed through the quiet. Wonder’s hands moved reflexively, coming up toward his face, but he hit the ringside mat before he could realize what happened. Nick moved toward the back with purpose, the knuckles of his right hand busted open and bloodied. He held it still, as if he had hurt himself.

A pair of security guards appeared behind us, clearing a way for us through the sparse crowd. I cursed under my breath, hating the way the crutches slowed me down. How it slowed my wife down. I knew her as well as I knew anyone else, and I was certain that she was panicked beyond recognition. Her greatest fear had been that one of us would get hurt. I’d always though it would be me or my brother. I never stopped to think that it would be my daughter.

By the time we made it out of Daily’s Place and into the lot, the ambulance had already driven away with Nick in the back with Mattie. Our rental car had been brought to the curb. Y/N trembled as she got behind the wheel. Her fingers clenched the steering wheel until her knuckles were white, skin stretched thin. I didn’t want her to drive—she had to be in shock—but I was useless. I couldn’t drive with my knee.

“Move,” someone said from by the driver’s door. I looked across my wife to see Adam Page standing there. “I’ll drive, Y/N. You’re in no state to.”

Adam caught my eye, his face a mixture of pure rage and sickening worry. I knew it was an expression mirrored by my wife and I. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was worn by everyone in the back. They’d all known Mattie since she was little.

He helped Y/N out and into the back. Just before he shut the door, shouts came from the arena exit. Kenny came racing across the lot, tugging a shirt on over his head as he ran, Brandon on his heels. They slid in on either side of my wife in the back seat, huddling close and slipping their arms around her. Adam gunned it from the parking lot and practically fishtailed into the street. The moment he could, Adam pushed the car to near ninety and my wife fell apart, sobbing so hard that she could hardly breathe. I twisted in my seat to take her hand, lacing our fingers together while Kenny and Brandon did their best to hold her together.


	2. Part 2

Part 2

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I ran into the hospital as fast as I could, for a moment forgetting that Matt was there. Somewhere in my head, I was aware of him hobbling along behind me, but the only thing I could think of was my daughter. My baby girl disappearing in an ambulance without me. Images of her as a baby, a toddler learning to walk, her first day at school… everything rushed through my mind in an instant. My breath caught in my chest, and I felt as if I were going to break into sobs at any moment.

“Jackson,” I shouted, half breathless as I slammed up against the receptionist desk. “Jackson. She was brought in by ambulance just a few minutes ago.”

The woman looked up, a half smile on her face. As soon as she saw the panic on my face, her smile faltered. “I’m sorry, what was the name again?”

“Jackson. Mattea Jackson. She came in through emergency.” Matt appeared at my side, huffing, his cheeks red with exertion. He moved his weight, using his good leg and crutch to bear it.

A moment later, we had directions to the emergency department waiting room. Brandon pushed Matt in a wheelchair while Adam and Kenny ran ahead with me. My heart jostled in my chest, not quite sure where it was supposed to land. It was moving too fast and too slow at once. If it weren’t for Kenny and Adam’s hands on my arms, I probably would have passed out before I made it to the waiting room.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Kenny said softly, not even winded from practically carrying my weight with one hand. “We’re almost there. Just a few more steps.”

We rounded the corner and all I could see was Nick.

_Nick_

The moment we got to the hospital, Mattie was rushed away from me. I followed behind as far as I could, listening to doctors talk about compound fractures and surgery and steel pins and head trauma. Panic churned my gut. I was sure I would puke any moment. Nurses pushed me into a chair, handed me a clipboard with information to fill out, permissions to sign to take her to surgery. For one brief instant, I was back in the delivery room with Y/N the day Ty was born. I was seeing her life bleeding out in front of me, panicked at the thought of losing her.

I couldn’t imagine going through the same with my daughter.

A doctor came out, sat down next to me, and told me that my daughter had to go through emergency surgery. She needed rods and screws in her leg to repair the break. Her arm wasn’t as severe, and they didn’t expect much damage with her head, but they would do further tests after they’d fixed her leg.

He’d barely gone through the doors to the treatment rooms before I looked up and saw Y/N, Kenny and Adam on either side of her. She drew a deep breath and sank against our friends. Her face went pale as she stumbled across the waiting room toward me. I was on my feet before my next heartbeat, clutching her in my arms as she nearly collapsed against my chest.

My wife’s fingers bunched in my shirt as I buried my face against her neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair and her clothes. The smell that meant home. That meant peace. She sobbed quietly, clinging to me with every ounce of strength in her body.

“Where is she?” Y/N asked after a few rattling breaths.

I kissed her temple and her forehead, squeezing her tightly. “She’s in surgery for her leg. She wasn’t awake when we got here—shock the doctor said. They put her on morphine in the ambulance.”

_Matt_

Nick and Y/N practically collapsed against one another the moment they saw each other. I was desperately grateful for my brother, for the man who loved Y/N as much as I did. They had a bond now—a new, different one—born from the shared knowledge that Nick was Mattie’s birth father. It didn’t bother me. She was still my daughter in every single way that mattered. It made Nick happy. It made Y/N happy. It made Mattie happy.

Nothing was more important than that.

“Hey.” I reached for my brother, grabbing him by the forearm and pulling his attention from our wife. “How are you?”

Y/N slipped her arm around his waist as if she could hold him up. Nick looked at me, and it was clear that he had been crying. His blue eyes were bloodshot and swollen. The end of his nose was red. His normally happy and smiling face was slightly grey, the corners of his mouth turned down.

“Petrified,” Nick said after a moment, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. A bark of a laugh slipped out of him. He shook out his hand and looked at his knuckles. “Who knows, I might have broken something myself.”

I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t do anything about it even if he had. Not until he was completely sure that Mattie was safe and healthy again. I looked toward Brandon, Adam, and Kenny. “Do you guys mind grabbing us something from the vending machines?” I went to reach for my wallet, but Kenny waved me off.

“We’ll do better than that,” he said, gesturing to the other two. “Brandon will stay here with you in case you need anything. Adam and I’ll go get you something to eat. Are the kids okay?”

Nick leaned his cheek against our wife’s hair. “They’re with Mom and Dad. I haven’t called them yet. There’s been so much…”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said softly. “I’ll call them as soon as we hear something.”

Adam and Kenny slipped out of the waiting room, giving us small smiles over their shoulders. Brandon sank down into a chair a little distance away, as if he were giving us space alone. I was grateful for his presence. He had been a friend for longer than we could remember, and it meant the world to us that he was here.

“Thanks, Brandon,” I murmured in his direction. “For everything.”

He smiled. “You’re family. Mattie is, too.”

_Nick_

It was after midnight when someone came out to take us upstairs. Kenny and Adam had brought us McDonalds, and the six of us spread out in the OR waiting area. One by one, they passed out as midnight turned into one and then two. Kenny slept sitting straight up in his chair, head back against the wall. Adam was slouched down and stretched out, his legs crossed at the ankles in front of him. Brandon had given up and splayed out flat on his back on the floor. Y/N had curled up in Matt’s lap, her head settled against his shoulder. He kept his arms around her, his thumb stroking her arm every so often. My brother was bleary eyed, but he refused to go to sleep.

I wasn’t doing much better to tell the truth. I was desperate to know something of how Mattie was doing, but no news came from the operating room. Every now and then I would go to the nurse’s desk, ask about my daughter, then go back to sitting and waiting, my heart falling a little further down in my chest each time.

“Mr. Jackson?” The voice came from the doorway. Both Matt and I looked up to see a doctor standing there, still in his blue surgical scrubs.

My brother cleared his throat, drawing the doctor’s attention. We’d decided against changing Mattie’s birth certificate, and I’d been named as an emergency contact who could make medical decisions for all of our kids. But Mattie was an adult now, and we were lucky the doctors were going to tell us anything.

“We’re Mattie’s family,” Matt said with a worried smile and a wild gesture around the room.

The doctor crossed the room and sank down into a crouch in front of us. Matt gently shook Y/N awake, and her eyes went wide at the sight of the doctor.

“What’s happened? Is everything okay?” Our wife’s words spilled out in a rush of worry and doubt. “How is she doing?”

“She’s out of surgery. As far as we can tell, everything went exactly as it should have,” he replied calmly. “The compound fracture was clean, which was helpful in piecing things back together. We’ve had to place a series of metal plates and screws around the fracture to help hold everything in place while her bone heals.”

“How long will that take?” Matt asked. He scratched at his beard and wrapped his free arm a little tighter around Y/N.

“It was pretty bad break, even if it was clean. Given the location and severity, I’d say she needs eight to ten weeks with a cast and the hardware. We can reassess afterward, but I think the hardware will have to stay put.”

“What about her leg?” I queried, hearing the ache for my baby girl in the gravel sound of my voice.

The doctor straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Good news is that there wasn’t a break of any kind. She dislocated her knee and ended up with a total tear of her ACL. We’ve repaired that as well, but that’s a longer healing time…”

“Nine months,” Matt said frustratedly. “And PT after. Her career is over before it started.”

“Bullshit,” Kenny said from the corner. My head snapped around to see him awake and listening. “She’s got too much Bullet Club in her to quit.”

I couldn’t help but grin. Y/N and I looked at one another, half smiling in our relief that Mattie was okay. My wife pressed a kiss to Matt’s forehead and said, “Looks like you and Tea are on r-n-r together.”


	3. Part 3

Part 3

_(GIF owned by superkickparty on Tumblr)_

_Mattie_

I hated it. I absolutely hated it. My arm was in a cast, my leg was in a brace, I had to walk on crutches, and I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the ring. At all. Momma was _adamant_ about that much at least.

There was nothing to do being stuck at all home day hardly able to do more than hobble from my room to the bathroom or living room. Plus, I was stuck at Papa’s house. I couldn’t even go across the patio to Dad’s. It sucked. So fucking hard.

“What’s got you looking so sour?” Papa said as he plopped down on the sofa, stretching out his leg. He was almost healed—he was already in physical therapy. I hated that too.

And I hated that I hated it. I wanted to cry because of it.

“I want to go back,” I whimpered, letting my head fall back against the cushions. “I hate it here.”

Papa groaned as he turned toward me. He looked sad. Kind of like he had that time when Dad left for a while. “You don’t mean that.”

My head pounded. I could feel my heartbeat beneath my cast. It made my stomach turn upside down. “I want to go back to Jacksonville. I don’t want to be _here_.”

“You’ll get back, Tea. I know you don’t think so now,” Papa said quietly. “It’s better to stay out and get healed up than go back to early and be out permanently.”

I tugged my blanket over my head and huffed. “You don’t understand.”

“Mattie…”

“No! Just… leave me the fuck alone, Papa.” I wished I could storm out, go back to my room and slam the door. The sound would have been satisfying.

“Mattea Kourtney Jackson!” Papa shot up to his feet, yanking the blanket away from me, his voice deep and dangerous. It hit my ears and my gut, making me feel like I was going to puke. “Don’t you _ever_ let me hear you say that again.”

“I’m nineteen,” I spat back, wishing I could stand up to him. I hated feeling like a little girl. Whenever Papa and Dad were around at shows, everyone treated me like I was five. Most of them had known me since the day I was born. It was hard enough to be taken seriously without my parents breathing down my neck. “Kenny and Adam say it all the time. So do Chuck and Trent and Cassidy and Mox…”

“I don’t care what they say, Mattie. You were raised better than that!” Papa was practically shouting. “Grandma Buck would pop you in the mouth for that.”

My chest ached as my heart thundered behind my ribs. I could feel my pulse slamming against the inside of my cast. My stomach turned sideways, and for the first time in a long time, I wanted to wail for my mom. I just wanted her.

“Why do you care?” I asked suddenly, not sure where the words came from.

Papa’s face turned red. “Because you’re my daughter!”

“ _No, I’m not!_ ” I shouted, absolutely loathing the words the moment they came out of my mouth. I watched Papa’s face crumple. He sank onto the couch like someone had kicked his legs out from under him. His eyes were big and brown, vulnerable and hurt. And they were already spilling over with tears. “Papa… I…”

His jaw clenched. He settled one hand over his heart, and for a moment I was terrified that he was having a heart attack or something. “Mattie…” Papa’s voice was smaller than I’d ever heard it. Sadder than it had ever been, even when Dad was gone and Mama had been in tears for a week. “How could you…”

For a moment, he was completely silent. His hands fell into his lap and he stared at them. Tears slid down his cheeks and into his beard. It was the first time I noticed that it was going a little grey.

_Matt_

I’d had the air knocked out of me plenty of times in my life. But nothing compared to the ringing sound of Mattie shouting those words at me. It was like gravity fell apart and everything was going topsy turvy. There was a dull ache in my chest, like someone had punched a hole straight through. My gut felt like it was trying to crawl up my throat.

“I cut your chord… I held you the day you were born… I watched you come into this world…”

I wondered if she even heard the words. They were so quiet I barely heard them myself. Instead I was lost in memories of the little girl with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes that had stolen my heart the moment she’d let out her first wail. Bringing her home, pacing the floors as Nick and I tried not to wake Y/N with her crying, driving around and around the block to get her to sleep when she had colic. Those petrified months when she started to crawl, when I was obsessed with making sure she didn’t run into anything. Her first tottering steps, watching Nick and Y/N chase her through the yard. Trying so hard to build her swing set and her bicycle and her princess castle. Teaching her to swim.

Walking through Disneyland with her on my shoulders. Getting buried up to my knees in sand on the beach in Hawaii while she giggled and ran off to catch starfish and sand dollars. Agonizing days and nights when we had to be away from home on loops. Setting her off on her first day of school with her Beauty and the Beast backpack and her light up glitter sneakers.

My throat threatened to close. I could feel the tears running down my face, but I couldn’t catch a breath. That ache in my chest grew until it felt like that was all I knew.

Tumbling with her in the ring in the backyard. Teaching her those first few precious things. Helping her with her homework. Watching her paint and sketch, looking for all the world like my wife made over. Christmases and birthdays and Easters and dragging her out of bed at six AM to make breakfast for Y/N on Mother’s Day. Sitting around our picnic style dining table and talking about wrestling, Oreo sleeping on her feet. Watching her sob and curl into a ball after everything that happened at her school. Seeing the temporary loss of Nick break her heart like it had ours. Then following along as she opened up and bloomed in her co-op, in the ring.

I’d watched every moment of her existence, and I didn’t think I could love someone as much as I loved her and her brothers and sister. Mattie was my oldest, my firstborn, regardless of what the DNA test said. I’d always promised Y/N that… promised Nick that.

There’d been a moment of terror when Y/N told me what Mattie had wanted for her eighteenth birthday—to know who her birth father was. My wife had taken me aside and told me, so I wouldn’t be blindsided when it happened. And God knew, I’d dreaded the moment that Mattie would look at me and see someone other than her Papa.

Now that the moment had come, I couldn’t bear it. The pain rocketed through me, radiating out from that excruciating cavern behind my ribs. _This is what it feels like_ , I thought, staring dumbly at my hands, _this is what it feels like to have a broken heart._

“Mattie…” I said her name, and it felt like knives stabbing me in the back. How could I have lost my little girl so completely?

A noise made me look up. Maybe it was the nineteen years of listening for her every breath and whine and cry that made me hear the whimper that she tried to hide behind her cast. She’d pulled herself to the edge of the sofa and was slowly scooting her way over to me. Her eyes—blue like my brother’s—were full of sadness and regret. Her lip trembled the way it always did when she was about to burst into tears.

I saw her for an instant as she had been at three. Dark curls and wide eyes, clutching an elephant in one hand and Nick’s ponytail with the other as we told her that he and I were going to Japan for a month. And that she couldn’t come with us. Her bottom lip had trembled, those sapphire eyes had turned glassy, and she’d cried so hard and so long that she made herself sick and we missed our flight.

“I’m sorry, Papa,” she said softly. The sound of her voice shattered my heart just then. It was the sound she’d made when she told us about the girls at school. About the bruises on her arms and the taunts the kids yelled at her in the halls.

My next words came out before I had a chance to think about them. “You’re the one who gave me that name.”

_Mattie_

My knee hurt so bad as I pulled myself down the sofa toward Papa. I’d never wanted to take words back as badly as I wanted to take back telling him I wasn’t his daughter. I hated myself for making him look so sad.

His words thumped me in the chest. They were wistful, a little bit sad with a tinge of nostalgic happiness.

“I did?”

Papa looked over at me, a smile spreading over his face. “You did. We were sitting on the sofa in Dad’s house. You were all wrapped up in one of his Clippers shirts—” He stopped and let out a laugh. “He was determined that you’d be like him. You didn’t have blankets as a baby. You had Nick’s old Clippers gear. But this one was your favorite.”

I knew exactly which one he meant. It was folded up in the bottom of my gear bag. The image was faded into almost nothing on the front and the fabric was worn thin in places.

“I had you right here,” he said, pantomiming holding something against his chest. “Dad was making you laugh and Mama came in. Before you were born, she decided what you’d grow up calling us.” He leaned in, a smile on his face that only showed up when he talked about Mama. “Nick and I didn’t like them, but you know how we are with your mom. I sat you up on my lap and Dad told you to pick which of us was Papa.”

He stopped, and I couldn’t help but drag myself further over the sofa to put my head against his shoulder. His chest hitched. “And you… you leaned against my chest. Just like that…” Papa reached up and put his hand on the side of my head. “I don’t care that I’m not your biological father, Mattie. You’re my daughter. I’ve loved you with every breath in my body since the second you came into the world. A piece of paper doesn’t change that. Not for me.

“Do you still… think of me like…”

I hugged him as tightly as I could. I wished harder than I’d ever wished in my life that I could take back everything I said to him.

“I didn’t think you…” I whispered against his shoulder. “Not knowing that Dad was…”

It shocked me when Papa started laughing. He wrapped his arm around me and grinned. “How can you not be my daughter? You’re as stubborn and sometimes stupid just like me.”

I hid my face against his shoulder just like I’d done my whole life. “You’re my Papa. And I’m your Tea.”


End file.
